


diplomacy

by brightclam



Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Gen, cornwall is a badass but we already knew that, the andorian nurse and the tellarite nurse are totally dating btw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-12
Updated: 2017-12-12
Packaged: 2019-02-14 00:47:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12996186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brightclam/pseuds/brightclam
Summary: Her sickbay is filled with shrieking alarms and screaming wounded. A young crewman, a new recruit she recognizes as the helmsman, has just arrived and told her she’s in command. He looks at her, desperation written all over his bloody, tearstained face.She’s now the proud commander of a starship, dead in the water with alien weapons still blasting it to pieces.[Or, the story of the first time admiral Cornwell took command]





	diplomacy

**Author's Note:**

> tw: Blood, graphic description of wounds

\------

The first time Cornwell takes command, she’s just the chief medical officer. She’s happy being the CMO, has no wish to command anything other than her sickbay. But she supposes it makes sense that it would fall to her; after all, all the higher ranking officers are in engineering or the bridge, the first places an enemy would target.

 

She knows her mundane thought process is just an attempt to keep herself from panicking. Her sickbay is filled with shrieking alarms and screaming wounded. A young crewman, a new recruit she recognizes as the helmsman, has just arrived and told her she’s in command. He looks at her, desperation written all over his bloody, tearstained face.

 

She’s now the proud commander of a starship, dead in the water with alien weapons still blasting it to pieces.

 

Her Andorian nurse sweeps past, antenna twitching in a mixture of focus and fear, and yells:

 

“Sir, two more patients require surgery!”

 

The helmsman’s eyes are flicking through his wounded crewmates, looking like he’s going to cry again. Cornwell shifts to block his view of the section where the worst patients are kept and yells back over her shoulder:

 

“Get them on the table and do what you can to stop the bleeding! I need a couple more minutes.”

 

She grabs the helmsman and drags him away from the horror behind them and into her office. She orders the computer awake and shoves him at it.

 

“Can you get me channel to the alien ship?”

 

He gawks, a welcome change from the terror he’s been in recently.

 

“But sir, captain R’kik already tried talking!”

 

“Son, I liked our late captain but he was by no means a diplomat. Can you get the channel open?”

 

“Yes sir.”

 

The screen fizzles to life and an alien face swims into view, heavily scaled and with elegant fins gracing the sides of its head. It snarls, showing off a row of shark-like teeth, but she cuts it off before it can speak.

 

“This is acting captain Cornwell. Why have you attacked us? We are a peaceful ship of exploration!”

 

The alien laughs, it’s probably heard this before. R’kik would have tried that much at least.

 

“Then why are you armed?”

 

“Does a species not have the right to defend itself? We are not so trusting as to wander the universe unarmed, and apparently for good reason. You are proving why we need those weapons right now.”

 

The alien stutters, fins flapping. It falls back on anger and snarls:

 

“You crossed our border, intruded upon our territory!”

 

“Were there any markings? Any buoys or warning transmissions? How were we supposed to know it was yours?”

 

The alien shuffles confusedly and Cornwell almost cries in relief. She’s getting through to them.

 

“And if I remember properly, you fired on us first. You didn’t even give us a chance to explain before attacking! Does that sound like we’re the aggressors here?”

 

The alien blink, flattens its fins against its head. Cornwell isn’t a xenobiologist, but she hopes that’s nervous body language, not aggressive.

 

From outside her office comes an agonized scream and Cornwell is reminded that she has wounded to tend to. Fortunately, the alien weapons shaking the ship have stopped while they were talking.

 

“Helmsman, get that transmission on a padd and bring it with us. I’m going to have to negotiate and work at the same time.”

 

She’s into her gown and gloves by the time the helmsman has the padd ready. The alien looks at her strangely and she explains as she stalks through the sickbay filled with wounded.

 

“I apologize for the informalness of all this, but I am this ship’s doctor and my crew are dying. Please forgive the distractions.”

 

The walk is filled with moans and screams of wounded people, and while she’s used to it, the helmsmen and the alien obviously aren’t. The helmsman’s lip wobbles and the alien looks slightly sick. The door to the surgery room slides open and the alien makes a small, pained noise.

 

Cornwell looks over the crewman who’s gushing blood all over the table and quickly identifies the arteries that have been cut by shrapnel. She gestures for her second nurse, a tellarite, to take the padd from the helmsman and shoos him out of the room. He may be dead in a few minutes, but that’s no excuse for traumatizing him.

 

She’s deftly sealing up wounds and regenerating flesh when she continues the conversation with the alien.

 

“Now, sir. We will happily leave your space as soon as we have enough power to get moving. In the meantime I beg your patience.”

 

The alien’s fins are turning blue and it can’t tear its eyes away from the crewman she’s working on. She hadn’t intended to show it the damage it had done when it attacked, but it appears to have worked nonetheless.

 

“Of course. We are very sorry to have attacked a peaceful ship and hope to avoid conflicts in the future. Best of luck with your injured crew.”

 

The transmission ends, the alien still looking sick.

 

Her nurses stare at her and she laughs, an edge of hysteria to it.

 

“My first command and I save the ship because aliens can’t stand the sight of blood.”

 

\-----

 

Once they limp back to Federation space, Starfleet tries to give her a medal. She begrudgingly accepts it and goes back to checking on the helmsman. She’s a psychologist at heart, and she has no doubt that he’s going to need help with his new trauma.

 

How she makes it to admiral from there, she has no idea.

\--------


End file.
